one summer
by UlteriorEgo
Summary: Paige thought that she had life figured out until a newcomer arrives in town and shows Paige just how wrong she's been. Paily. AU. G!P. Bacon.


AN: This is my ranch hand!g!p!Paige story (that's a lot of exclamation marks). I'm writing this for a friend who likes to complain that there are not enough g!p stories with an actual plot out there. I repeat this is a g!p story.

* * *

one summer

prologue

It might have been better if I had never been born at all. My mother would have then got her wish at least. _Finally_, something that I actually did right. She tried to kill me when I was in the womb, I swear it. Sometimes, I would find a misplaced picture of her, one that avoided the trashcan. Her pregnant belly, swollen to the point it looked as though it would burst like a ballon's first contact with a needle. In her left hand, though, wedge between her index and middle finger was the orange-tip of a cigarette. An over-flowing ashtray and a sweating Budweiser on the table next to her.

Her lifeline she called them: her cigarettes. "Stay in the car, son, Peaches has to go get her lifeline." That's what she always called herself too: Peaches. A nickname that I am still not sure how she got, but one that she always insisting on me using. She was always Peaches - not Mom or Mommy - Peaches. I was always Son, said with a hiss. Never Princess or even just Paige, my own name. Maybe it was because she didn't pick my name. She wanted to name me Bill, "a boy's name for a little, freak boy." That's what she said right after I was born. Looked right at the camera my dad was holding too when she said it.

I found the tape one day while digging through my dad's old fishing gear. "It was the day you came into this world. No matter what she said I still didn't have the heart to throw it out," he said when he found me watching it.

Sometimes I wonder how she reacted when my parents first heard the news of my deformity. I try to imagine the doctor, "Well, Mr. And Mrs. McCullers, your baby is strong, healthy…good heartbeat on that kid."

The relief my parents must have felt believing God wasn't going to punish them for their teenage lust. After all, they did the right thing. If you look closely at their wedding photos, you can see me. Just a little bump, barely visible underneath all the white polyester and lace.

That relief was likely short lived when they heard the doctor exhale. The kind of exhale that clears the air to make room for bad news. "However, they're are some other, unforeseen, issues…"

Poor Peaches, her screams probably echoed throughout the entire hospital. Clutching my dad's shirt as he tried to calm her down. Begging for an abortion right then and there. I'm sure she might have even offered to do it herself while she scanned the room for a coat hanger. Too bad for Peaches abortions were illegal back then.

Not that my dad would ever allow it. I was his child, his own flesh and blood, no matter what I was born with.

They would have these loud fights - my parents - that would split the night air. Hateful words would explode like fireworks as they lashed out at each other all because of me. I would hear Peaches throw out every derogatory word her limited education could muster, but my dad never wavered in his love. With him it was never a "you're right, she's not normal, but…" because he loved me unconditionally.

They divorced when I was six. Surprisingly, I was not the cause of their divorce or so they say. Instead, Peaches ran off with a guy that she met at her adult, computer classes that she took at night down at the high school. His name was Dale and I remember him coming to our house to pick her up. My - Peaches had everything she could fit in a couple suitcases - mostly clothes, no mementos of the family she was leaving behind - and she couldn't get her bags into the back of his truck. He had one of those monster trucks with the mammoth tires and she couldn't lift her heavy bag high enough, but he didn't even get out to help her. Dale just sat in the cab performing the solo from Kashmir on his air guitar. Finally, my dad took pity on her and help her load the bags.

Then we both stood on the sidewalk watching the fire-engine red truck roll down the road. As the last cords of Kashmir faded into the distance my dad turned to me and said something I will never forget. He said, "how about we go get some ice cream?" Then we both laughed because we knew that Peaches leaving was the best thing for both of us and together we were going to be just fine.

* * *

For eighteen years no one except for my parents and my doctor knew about my condition. My doctor would write a note at the start of every school year that got me out of P.E and I learned to hide my addition well. Kids still made fun of me - for reasons I'm not even sure they knew - but thanks to six years with Peaches nothing they ever said hurt me. Life was as easy as it could be for someone in my situation until one day…it wasn't.

8.14.14


End file.
